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Page 348
and his shield armso open was his guardand lifted him from his saddle bodily. Then he dropped him, contemptuouslyunhurt and relatively gentlyonto the field. To his dumb amazement, this neat, comic by-play was received with only the commoners' roars of laughter. Instead of riding back to his place, he went over to Salisbury. The earl grinned at him and shrugged, motioned to him to bend down, and repeated the name Ian had not caught. That explained it. One of John's passel of bastards. Before Ian could make any remark, the king's champion was being summoned by the heralds again. Salisbury looked at him blankly.
"We will rest you as we can," he promised. "There were fortunately few gentlemen who wished to challenge you, unless they had a cause to do so, but there were others
It was all he or Pembroke could do. Ian lifted a hand in salute and went to take a fresh lance. The encounter with John's foolish, vain son had restored him. His shield arm ached, and he was still tired, but fatigue was not unknown to him. To his surprise, the fatigue did not seem to increase much in the beginning. For that he was sure he had Pembroke to thank. Simon's old friend was a tourney master equaled by no other, and he could judge a jouster most finely. There would be two or three easy passes and then a hard one. Invariably, after that Ian would have a period of recruitment while other knights ran against each other. Robert de Remy was one of the most active, and Ian noticed with pleasure that he was really very good, better than his run against Ian would indicate. Probably he had been nervous; it was not an easy thing to challenge a man one is accustomed to thinking much superior to oneself.

Alinor had been mildly alarmed when Ian's lance broke, but mercifully she did not realize how badly he had been shaken. For some time she was able to watch

 
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